For a kid, he handles himself almost superhumanly well. And, no, that’s not a reference to the onstage “crotch grabbing” that has scandalized a few observers since Bieber’s Believe tour began its march upon the planet in late September. Cheap joke aside, that’s an acknowledgement of the unflappable calmness and cool with which the young Stratford, Ont., native continues to navigate the thorny path of pop superstardom.

It’s easy to forget, because the theme relentlessly put forth by the Bieber machine since the Bieb’s 18th birthday last March and the June release of his second album proper, Believe, has been one of emergent manhood and “maturity, maturity, maturity,” but that was still essentially a kid facing down a sold-out crowd of 50,000-plus screeching admirers at the Rogers Centre on Saturday night.

As a performer, Bieber’s already demonstrably a pro at 18. He moved through the gang choreography, the costume changes and the pyrotechnic discharges of the Believe stage show as if he’d been doing it forever on Saturday. The production would prove surprisingly unimaginative and big-show routine after a promisingly over-the-top intro worthy of Kylie Minogue that had him floating onstage to “All Around the World” outfitted as a kind of metallo-winged, mythological seraph. But Bieber himself was an absolute charmer whenever he had occasion to address the breathless throng of ‘tweens, teens, moms and twenty-something gals out on the town in Smirnoff Ice-guzzling packs.

Bieber, the person, exudes the personality that most of the Believe material lacks. “As Long as You Love Me,” “Beauty and the Beat” — which featured both a video cameo by Nicki Minaj and a brief drum solo by Bieber — and “Boyfriend” have their hooks, but Saturday’s set list was largely taken up by boomingly anodyne 21st-century R&B dance-pop that could have been sung by anybody. And indeed might as well have been, given that Bieber seemed either to be lip-synching or singing through a barrage of dehumanizing effects during the more upbeat and therefore physically strenuous numbers. Admittedly, I couldn’t hear a thing over the din because I was up in the 500s, above and slightly behind stage right, in a $40 seat I bought for $170 on Friday afternoon because the Bieber camp decided last week it didn’t want reviewers in the house.

In any case, left alone at the microphone to perform a cappella snippets of “vintage” cuts like My World’s “That Should Be Me” early on and later delivering the ballads “Be Alright” and “Fall” from a cherry-picker swooping across the floor — even accompanying himself on acoustic guitar for the latter — Bieber would demonstrate that he could indeed carry a tune. His unending utterances of gratitude to the fans who have made him what he is, however, were probably the most endearing feature of the show. Yes, you actually did believe his thank-yous. And he was kinda funny with them.

“I never thought I’d be onstage here at SkyDome,” he remarked during one of his gracious, be-all-you-can-be speeches. “I never thought I’d be wearing leather pants. But here I am, wearing leather pants.”

Cue “Never Say Never” and a tip of the hat to Bieber’s comic timing. He earned extra points, too, for generously giving hometown homeboy Drake room to roam in the spotlight on his own “The Motto” after the rapper emerged — to a frenzied response that, impossibly, pushed the shriek level in the stadium “one louder” — to duet with his pal Bieber on “Right Here.”

He held it down. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand. Granted, 50,000 crush-blind teenage girls might not constitute the most discerning crowd in the world, but this sort of happening can only really be judged on how it plays to its intended audience and there’s not a doubt in my mind that Bieber will be the talk of many a schoolyard on Monday morning.

Again, though: think about who he is and what he’s doing and his weird situation. Bieber can handle himself.

That was an 18-year-old kid who didn’t necessarily know nor care that Stephen Harper was going show up backstage at his show in Ottawa last Friday looking to shake his hand for a photo op and then good-naturedly absorbed a subsequent torrent of idiotic Internet outrage because he dared wear overalls to meet the Prime Minister. That was an 18-year-old kid who stoically got through his Grey Cup halftime performance in the same Rogers Centre last Sunday without ever once acknowledging or responding harshly to the chorus of boos greeting his every move. That was an 18-year-old kid who made global headlines — global headlines — for puking onstage in Arizona two months ago yet neither died of embarrassment nor retired to a remote Tibetan monastery to repent for the cancerous effect he’s had on worldwide news judgment. That’s still an 18-year-old kid out there every day, sucking up every snide Twitter comment made over his haircuts and his pants, every “Are they or aren’t they?” tabloid story about his relationship with Selena Gomez, every dubious paternity suit and every harsh review without exploding.

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